


Ask the Hobbit

by PenguinofProse



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Happily Ever After, Happy Ending, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, post s6 canon divergence, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse
Summary: Written for 100 fics for BLM. Post S6 AU where Bellamy realises he loves Clarke and decides to do everything possible to marry her and have a happily ever after, and in which Madi is the opposite of an impartial observer.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 24
Kudos: 120
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	Ask the Hobbit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VegettoBlue63bellamy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VegettoBlue63bellamy/gifts).



> Hello and welcome to another fic for 100 fics for BLM! This picks up just after the end of S6 and is pure fluff. Happy reading!

**Support more great causes and prompt more fics at<https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/> . This fic supported "We the protesters", an ** **organization focused on ending racism and police violence in the United States.**

Bellamy doesn’t have the first clue where to start. 

He’s got nothing. Nothing at all except one thought echoing over and over and over again in his mind - the absolutely certainty that he loves Clarke. He’s known that for a long time now, of course. But that night he coaxed her back from the brink of death has put a few things into focus for him. He knows that he loves Clarke like he will never love anyone else. He knows that he wants to build a life with her - a future, bright and happy.

But he doesn’t know how to make that happen. He doesn’t know how to show her he’s sorry for Polis, or that he wants to be more than awkward but heartfelt family to her. He doesn’t know how to make her understand that she’s the most beautiful woman in the world, to him, and that she always will be.

He needs a plan, he supposes. But plans are more Clarke’s domain than his, and he can hardly ask her. He can’t ask Echo, either - she has a good strategic mind, but Bellamy broke up with her as soon as the moment was right on returning back to Sanctum. He’s not going to ask Raven, because things are still rather rocky between her and Clarke.

He asks Murphy, in the end. He’s getting desperate.

“I don’t know, Bellamy. You already tried bringing her back from the dead. What other grand gestures are left?”

Bellamy nods, heavy. That’s kind of how he’d been feeling, to be honest. Totally lost for ideas.

“Ask the hobbit.” Murphy suggests now, off-hand.

Bellamy freezes, stunned. That’s - that’s actually a very good idea. Madi gave him a clue, while the Earth was burning for the last time. She told him about the radio calls, reminded him that Clarke does care about him, truly.

Madi might just be the right person to ask now, too.

……..

He bumps into her, carefully casual, just as she finishes playing soccer with her friends one afternoon.

“Madi. Hey. Do you have a minute?”

She gives him a curious sort of look. “Yeah. Why?”

He sighs a long sigh, gathers his courage. “I just wanted to ask you - it’s about Clarke.” He takes a deep breath, tries again. “I was wondering how to show her how much I - I care about her.” He manages to get the words out, looks at Madi expectantly.

Madi frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean - you know.” He says hopelessly, even though she clearly  _ doesn’t _ know. “She’s important to me. I want to know how to show her that. What should I do? You know her better than anyone. What can I do to prove it to her?”

She’s frowning even harder, now, looking at him like he’s lost his mind. “What - you’re asking me for some kind of perfect plan or big gesture?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

She looks disappointed in him. So thoroughly disappointed that it makes him feel sick to his stomach. Is this it? Does she not think he’s good enough for her mum, or something?

“Please tell me you know her better than that, Bellamy. I know it’s been a long time but you must know she’s not interested in big gestures or whatever. She’s just  _ missed _ you. All she wants is to actually spend some time with you.”

He gulps. He’d like that, too. He’d love nothing more. But can it really be as simple as that? After a lifetime of feeling inadequate to his task, and of everything being such a damn struggle, is it really so straightforward?

“You think it’s that easy?” He asks, feeling small.

“I  _ know _ it’s that easy.” She says, her disappointment giving way to a tentative smile. “She really misses you.” She reiterates.

Right. He can deal with that. He’s missed her too, more than anything, and he thinks this gives him a good starting point.

It’s not quite a plan, but apparently some grand strategy is not what he needs.

……..

Sanctum is still rather volatile, so the makeshift council meets every morning to discuss the day ahead, and also to make some tentative progress on longer-term plans. The next morning, therefore, Bellamy takes a seat next to Clarke at the council meeting. He smiles at her, wishes her a good morning, chats quietly to her on and off while they are waiting for other people to arrive.

And afterwards, when the room starts to clear, he turns to her and gathers his courage.

“Hey. Do you want to hang out sometime? I owe you a drink.” He offers simply.

It takes her a moment to place his reference. A second, and then she laughs out loud. “That sounds fun.”

“Yeah? Are you free tonight?”

“Yeah. Meet you at the tavern after supper?”

“Sounds perfect.” He takes a deep breath, and a risk. “I’m looking forward to it. I missed just spending time with you.”

Her face lights right up, eyes glowing like he hasn’t seen since before her mother passed away. “Me too. There weren’t so many bad jokes in my life while you were in space.” She dares to tease.

He grins, does his best to repay her in kind. “Yeah, it was pretty weird not having anyone question my decisions all the damn time.”

She smiles a little, looks down at her feet. “I’m sorry. I gave you a hard time and I shouldn't have. You’re -”

“Hey, none of that. I was just messing with you.” He reaches out for her, hand on her shoulder, desperately hoping he hasn’t ruined the buoyant mood here. He doesn’t really know how to have a conversation with Clarke that is open and honest about how much he cares about her - at least, not any more. All he can remember how to do is tease her like that time he called the radio calls  _ pathetic _ .

Yeah, he still hasn’t forgiven himself for that one.

She’s smiling more broadly when she looks up at him once more. “I know. I get it. Just - getting used to having you back I guess. See you tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. I can’t wait.” She tells him, and he allows himself to believe that it might actually be the truth.

…….

Bellamy doesn’t spend the whole day trying desperately to plan topics of conversation. He’s proud of himself for that. He spends it instead in getting to know more of the Wonkru warriors, trying to forge links between them and the Eligius convicts, and trying not to let the first date nerves get to him too badly.

Not that it is a date of course. Obviously. Just two friends hanging out, catching up, keeping it casual.

All the same, he spends twenty minutes trying to get his hair to lie flat. That’s probably a waste of time, he thinks, when he is done. He’s not even sure whether Clarke likes his hair to lie flat. Harper always used to swear that it suited him better curling over his forehead. Does Clarke think that, too? And why is this whole thing making him miss Monty and Harper more than ever? He could do with a friendly hug and some calm advice about what to wear, right now.

At last it is time. He heads to the tavern, finds Clarke already there. Oh God. He hopes he hasn’t kept her waiting for long.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He offers.

She laughs. “You’re not. I just wanted to be early. Didn’t want to waste a second.” She admits, voice a little shaky as she refuses to meet his eye.

“I get that. But we have plenty of time to hang out again now, right?”

She nods, smiling. He nods, smiling right back at her. He could swear they used to be less awkward around each other, before Praimfaya.

It’s OK. They’re doing fine. He hasn’t called her  _ pathetic _ , yet, so it could be worse.

“Can I get you that drink?” He offers.

“Sure. Shall I come to the bar with you?”

He agrees to that. He doesn’t actually need help carrying two drinks, but he’s not about to say no to a couple more minutes in Clarke’s company. He leaves his jacket slung over his chair and leads the way towards the bar.

They are silent, as they get their drinks. He thinks that’s OK. He thinks it’s to be expected, even, given the circumstances and their history. But when they return to the table, he is determined to get the conversation flowing.

“Tell me about Shallow Valley?” He asks. “I want to know everything. I want to make up for all those radio calls I missed.”

She smiles sadly at him. “You sure about that? They were mostly just boring lists of what I did each day.”

“I mean it. I want to know everything.” He wants to be able to imagine he’s there with her, in all honesty.

“OK. You asked for it.”

She tells him a lot, in the end, but he suspects not everything. She tells him about celebrating Madi’s birthdays, about days out picking berries, about the hunting and the fishing and the garden. She doesn’t tell him about the loneliness, he notes. She doesn’t tell him about winter storms, either, or the pressure of raising a child alone, or any of the other ugly parts.

That’s fine. They can work on that. This is just a first step - a casual drink with a friend.

He tells her about space, when it is his turn. He edits his story somewhat, as she did - editing out the worst parts, but also some of the best. He doesn’t want her to feel left out. He’s not quite ready to admit that they would still drink algae moonshine and turn the music up loud sometimes, even when they thought she was dead.

He’s not quite ready to acknowledge that he tried to move on from her, in other words.

She knows that, of course. She knows, because she saw him with Echo plenty of times before they broke up. But this has been a nice evening, with drinking and laughter and smiles, and he’s not about to tarnish that now.

Eventually, the evening draws to a close, and Bellamy finds himself swallowing down disappointment. He shouldn’t try to push his luck - Clarke has a daughter to get home to. It would be unfair for him to sit here begging her to stay for just one more drink. And he supposes he probably shouldn’t kiss her on this first date that is not truly a date, not when she’s made no move to show him she would want that at all.

Small steps. Little, everyday things not big gestures. Simply spending time together - that’s the plan.

He tries, therefore, to take another small step.

“This was fun. You want to hang out again some time?” He asks lightly.

She nods right away. “Yeah. It’s been great. Is tomorrow too soon?”

He feels the grin split his face long before he quite processes that he is happy. Clarke has always had this almost instinctive talent for making him smile. “Tomorrow sounds perfect. Same time?”

“Yeah. Or maybe half an hour earlier?”

He agrees to that without hesitation. If she really enjoys hanging out with him this much, maybe he won’t have to make too many more of these small steps along the road to love.

…….

Bellamy can’t stop smiling, the next day. He smiles at Clarke as he takes a seat next to her at the morning meeting. He smiles at Raven, who responds by asking if he’s feeling OK. He gets back to smiling at Clarke, who says not once, nor twice, but  _ three times _ how much she’s looking forward to getting a drink with him again tonight.

Is this a date? No, probably not. Or maybe -? No, best not get his hopes up.

The day rushes past him, an excited mess of meetings and trying to make new friends and connections. He gets ready for his drink with Clarke, manages to spend only two minutes on his hair tonight. At this rate, he might be able to act natural with her again before the century is out.

At last, it’s time. He makes sure to get to the tavern first today, has her order from yesterday already waiting on their table by the time she shows up.

It goes even better than last night. The conversation flows more smoothly. It’s less like they’re taking it in turns to issue a life update to each other, and more like they’re actually chatting. It’s everything that Bellamy missed while Clarke was gone, really. It’s an odd business - he mourned her, yes, and hated himself for leaving her behind. But more than anything he simply  _ missed _ the one person whose company he enjoys above all others.

All too soon for Bellamy’s liking, Clarke is checking the time and making her apologies.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Gaia’s with Madi and I can’t expect her to stay all night.”

“That’s fine, I get it. We can do this again sometime.”

She nods right away. But she doesn’t suggest the very next day like she did last night. And he thinks about what she’s just said about childcare, balanced alongside her evident joy in getting to know him once again, and decides that he might have quite a good idea.

“Would it be easier for you if we just hang out at your place or mine next time? So you don’t have to ask someone to take care of Madi?”

“Yeah. Definitely. I know it’s been really fun these last couple of nights getting to come out and be free of responsibilities for the evening. But I can’t do it every night.”

“I wish you could.” He says. “I don’t mean that selfishly - I mean I wish you didn’t feel so burdened all the time.”

“Madi’s not a burden, not really. I love her. But I guess you know better than anyone that you can love someone and still feel a really intense sense of responsibility for them.”

“Yeah.” He swallows. “You’re doing great, Clarke. Really.”

She smiles a little. “Thanks. It’s a good idea to hang out at home instead if you’re sure you don’t mind having my kid around.”

“I don’t mind at all. She’s important to you, so she’s important to me.”

Her smile grows more sure, looks more at home on her face. “So - do you want to come over to our place tomorrow night?”

He grins. He can’t help it.  _ Tomorrow.  _ Maybe it won’t be so hard to convince Clarke to try loving him after all.

Maybe she’s already halfway there.

That’s why he does it. That’s why he takes the risk, leans in towards her lips. Clarke’s reaching towards him, too, eyelids fluttering. This is really happening. It’s happening at long last, and it’s almost more than he can bear.

His lips brush against hers, gently at first, then a little more confident. She sighs, leaning in further, reaching up to cradle his cheek.

She’s touching him like he’s fragile, he thinks, or like he might disappear any second. That’s a thought that hurts.

He tries to brush that aside and concentrate on the kiss. He’s waited lifetimes to kiss this woman, and he doesn’t want to waste a single moment in sad reflections. Instead, he wants to concentrate on showing her how much he cares about her.

With that thought, he brings his hands to her waist and pulls her closer. It’s a little awkward, because they’re sitting side-by-side on sticky bar chairs. But he’s faced more awkward situations with Clarke before now and lived to tell the tale.

All at once, he is struck by an horrific thought. He’s being selfish, by continuing to kiss her like this. She has a daughter to get home too.

“I’m sorry.” He gasps, pulling away. “I should let you get back to Madi.”

She raises her brows at him, unimpressed. “Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Clarke,  _ please _ . I screwed up with Madi and the flame. Let me show you now that I understand she’s your priority.”

She nods, now, understanding and even smiling. “I get it. Thank you. But I don’t need to run out the door half way through a kiss. Gaia will stay the extra two minutes.”

He nods. She nods again. They sit there, nodding foolishly at one another, while Bellamy tries to figure out what the hell to say.  _ Good kiss _ ? That seems inane and rather inadequate, when the honest truth is that it was a mind-blowing kiss from a woman he’s been in love with for centuries.

It is Clarke who breaks the silence, in the end.

“You could come home with me now.” She offers, soft and unsure. “If you want to, I mean. If you want to keep kissing. Or - if you want to see what happens next.”

“I want that more than anything.” He admits, raw and honest, throat dry. “But is it too soon? I don’t know. I want to do this right.” He laughs a little at himself. “I’m awful at this, Clarke. We’ve been such close friends for  _ decades  _ and I don’t know how to tell you I want us to be together.”

“Like that is fine.” She says mildly.

“OK. Well - yeah.” He chuckles again. “I want us to be together. There. And - if the offer still stands, I’d love to come home with you.”

“Of course it does. I want this too - more than anything.” She turns away, bites her lip. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. I don’t want to waste another moment.”

“It’s like that for me too.” He assures her at once.

She meets his eyes, apparently surprised. As if she doesn’t quite dare to believe that’s true. And all at once, he can’t bear it. He cannot bear for her to doubt him a second longer.

“Am I allowed to say it now?” He asks softly. “You didn’t want to hear it, back before Praimfaya.”

“I did  _ want _ to. I just thought I didn’t deserve to. I’m still not sure I do but - I want it too much to say no.” She laughs a little. “I love you too, you know.”

“Of course you had to beat me to it.” He shakes his head. “I love you. Now what’s this about taking me home?”

…….

Bellamy’s smile is stuck on his face even more firmly, the following morning. He simply beams, when Madi gives him a knowing look at the breakfast table and asks if he slept well. He’s grinning from ear to ear, as he sits next to Clarke in the morning meeting, their hands clasped under the table. And he’s positively overflowing with joy as he follows her round Sanctum in the afternoon, completing their diplomatic tasks for the day, but stealing a kiss every few minutes, too.

The evening arrives, and he heads back to Clarke and Madi’s house again. It feels like he’s barely been away for any time at all, actually, since he woke up here this morning. He wonders if it’s too soon to move in.

Yes. It probably is.

He knocks on the door, holding a plate of cookies. Madi answers it, grinning, and pockets three of the cookies almost before he can blink.

“Clarke, it’s Bellamy for you. I’m going to do homework.” The child calls, already darting away down the hall.

“Madi -”

“Be safe. And  _ quiet _ .” Maid requests, laughing as she goes.

Clarke has arrived at the front door, now, looking more amused than truly flustered. “She never usually has homework to do at this time in the evening.” She muses, brow quirked.

“What a coincidence. Cookie?”

“Bellamy, you really didn’t need to bring cookies.”

“Madi liked them.” He defends himself, teasing, already walking into the house and reaching out to kiss Clarke in greeting.

It’s a funny thing, having Clarke back in his life. He’s happy she’s alive because he loves her, and he wants her to be safe and well. But he hadn’t realised until he embarked on this mission to show her his love, just a few short days ago, how much happiness she brings out in him, too. He’s truly his best self when she’s in his life - more confident and thoughtful and calm.

In other words, he decides, they are perfect together.

It’s a good evening - better than the last two, simply because they have acknowledged and embraced their feelings, now. Cookies replace drinks, and they sit cuddled together on the couch rather than side-by-side on those sticky bar chairs. They talk about everything and nothing, with a sprinkle of kisses thrown in along the way.

They wait until Madi is sound asleep before they head to the bedroom. That’s Bellamy’s request - a simple necessity, because he’s not much good at being quiet when he’s in bed with Clarke.

…….

It’s two weeks between the first kiss and the proposal.

Bellamy knows that’s not very long, but he simply doesn’t care. He’s let too many chances slip away before now, where Clarke is concerned. He’s determined to grasp at happiness with both hands, now. That’s a philosophy he’s been living by since he coaxed Clarke back from the dead and decided it was time for change, and it has served him well so far.

It’s liberating, honestly, to embrace joy after so long feeling guilty for any shred of happiness. He knows Clarke is struggling with it a little more, still mourning her mother, but she seems genuinely happy in their relationship and seems more than content with the brisk pace, too.

She was the one who invited him to move in on day five, in fact.

There’s just one thing Bellamy needs to do before he pops the question. He needs to have a quick chat with Madi.

“I’m going to ask Clarke to marry me.” He says simply.

Madi nods at once, grinning. “Good. Perfect. She’s only been waiting a few decades for that.”

He snorts, tries to get to the point. “How should I do it? Shall I cook her dinner or something?”

“Remember what I said when you started trying to date her? About not making a fuss? Just making it about the two of you?” Madi prompts.

Bellamy nods. “Yeah. Exactly. So dinner should be good, right? If I don’t make a big deal out of it?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” Madi agrees.

“Great. You want to eat dinner with one of your school friends tomorrow?” Bellamy asks, with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

Madi laughs, pulls him in for a quick hug, and turns to get started on the plate of cookies he has set down on the kitchen counter.

…….

He doesn’t make it to the following evening, in the end. He’s discovered a pleasant kind of impatience where Clarke is concerned, these last couple of weeks. So it is that, when the perfect moment presents itself, he seizes it and runs.

They’re on the couch together. He’s got his head in her lap, and she’s playing with his hair while she tells him a story about a snow fortress Madi built one winter. He loves listening to her talk about her child - the child he plans to make his stepdaughter, before long. And he loves most of all the way she fiddles with his hair or strokes his face while he’s lying like this. It makes him feel cared for like nothing else he has ever known.

In short, it is a sweet, domestic moment - the kind of moment he hopes they will share many more of, over the years.

“Do you want to get married?” He simply asks, in a lull in her story.

“To you specifically? Or in general?” She asks, tone teasing.

“To me.” He clarifies, smiling up at her.

“There’s nothing I want more.” She tells him without hesitation.

He sits up to reach for a kiss, pressing his lips firmly to hers. He still can’t get enough of kissing this woman - maybe that’s because he has six years to make up for, he wonders.

At length he lays back down again, and Clarke resumes making a fuss of him.

“So I’m going to be making a big fussy dinner for us tomorrow night. Just - bear with me, OK? Help me laugh it off if I make a mess of the food.” He says, with a tight smile.

“Would this big fussy dinner have anything to do with the question you just asked me?” She asks pertly.

“It might do.” He concedes.

“Great. I look forward to it.” She laughs a little, presses a fingertip to his lips for a tiny kiss.

He takes hold of her hand, keeps it there to kiss her knuckles. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to make a big deal of it. But then I wanted to make it really special. But then - here we are instead.” He grinds to a halt. Planning has never been his best thing, has it? In moments like this he can almost believe he’s still the same naive young man who blew up an acid tank in Mount Weather, rather than the more world-weary guy who emerged from cryosleep.

“I don’t care.” She tells him, simple and forceful. “We’re getting married. That’s all that matters to me.”

…….

It’s a small wedding. They’re both tired of crowds. It’s just their families - by birth as well as by choice - and a few simple words.

Madi is the maid of honour. Of course she is. She gives Clarke away, too, multitasking joyfully as she sets her mother’s hand into Bellamy’s.

“Take care of her.” She whispers, with a mock-stern glare.

“Always.” Bellamy promises easily.

He’d do anything for her, to protect her.

…….

Bellamy makes it a whole two months between the wedding and his next question to Madi. He thinks that shows admirable restraint on his part, actually. He started dating Clarke in two days, married her in two weeks. He cannot help but feel that this is something of a record.

He also feels like this is something he shouldn’t be  _ too _ impulsive about. He can use his head, really he can. He’s just enjoying having Clarke for that, again, now that she’s back in his life.

All the same, he’s done with waiting, now. He invites his stepdaughter to play soccer with him and asks her a question along the way.

“I’m thinking of asking Clarke whether she wants more children.” He asks, in that carefully casual tone that has come to characterise these little chats with Madi.

Madi snorts. “She does. She must have told you that by now. She spent so much time going on about what a great dad you would make while you were in space.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. She was right.” Madi says, shrugging, as if that’s just obvious. As if he ought to realise by now that he gets her seal of approval as a father.

He hadn’t realised that, for the record. It’s news to him. “Thanks, Madi.”

“Whatever. You’re great. You play soccer with me and give me cookies and listen when I need to rant about school.” She gets out, flustered. “Back to your point?”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, I know she wants more kids in general. But I think I’m going to ask her if she wants them  _ soon _ .”

“Why do you need to ask me about this?” Madi asks, giggling slightly. “You’re her husband. You know the formula. Keep it simple, show her you love her, it’s as easy as that.”

“Yeah. I know. I’m not asking you how to ask her, this time.” He swallows. “I’m asking whether it would be OK with you? I don’t want you to feel upset or surprised if we have another kid. I know what it’s like to get a little sister you didn’t ask for.”

He sees the moment Madi understands. He sees her eyes grow soft, sympathetic. She may not share Clarke’s blood, but she has certainly learnt a lot of her facial expressions, Bellamy finds himself thinking.

“Thanks, Bellamy. I get that. But it’s different, isn’t it? You’re not putting me in danger or whatever by having more kids. Big sister duties aren’t so tough round here. I’d love a younger brother or sister if you and Clarke want that.”

“Thanks, Madi.”

“Any time. You going to start kicking that ball around this century or…?” She gestures, teasing, at the football in his arms.

Right. Yes. They came here to play ball, not just to talk. He tosses the soccer ball in her general direction and watches her take off dribbling towards goal.

…….

Clarke beats him to it, on this question. That’s what makes it even better, somehow. Here he has been, these last two months, worrying about whether he’s rushing her, even as he has been determined to grasp at this chance for happiness. It’s been an odd paradox, and he’s relieved to have this ultimate confirmation that Clarke feels exactly the same way he does.

“How do you feel about children?” She asks him, tonight, as she stirs supper in a pot.

“Our children specifically? Or children in general?” He asks. He can’t resist the chance to tease, to affectionately get her back for the way she responded to that proposal.

She turns to him, laughing, reaches out to swat playfully at his arm then follows up with a kiss to his bicep.

He sees right through her. She just likes his arms.

“I’m talking about our children specifically. Do you want more? I get it if you think Madi is already enough. You didn’t ask for her.”

“If I could have asked for her, I would.” He says firmly. “And she’s definitely  _ enough _ in the sense that she’s a really special kid and I love her. But I’d love to have more kids too.”

“Great. Do you want more…  _ soon _ ?”

“Yes.” He says easily, reaching in for a kiss. “Is tomorrow too soon?” He asks, a deliberate echo of that first date - whether it was really a date or not.

“I hear they take nine months to make.” She reminds him pointedly. “And it would probably take me a while to get pregnant after getting my implant removed.”

“Yeah, I understand all that. I’m just saying - whenever you’re ready, I’m ready. I’d love nothing more than to have a bigger family with you.”

She seems to take that as an invitation to get started  _ now _ . She turns away from the cooking pot entirely, reaches in for an eager kiss. After a few minutes her hands are roaming over his shoulders and back, down past his waist to his hips and -

“What’s for dinner?” Madi asks, enunciating her words carefully as she leans against the doorframe.

Bellamy springs back from Clarke, embarrassed. “Sorry, Madi.” He says.

“Don’t be. You’re going to try for a baby, it’s adorable. I’m not even really complaining about you being all gross and making out in the kitchen. I’m complaining because I can smell burning, and  _ soup shouldn’t burn _ .”

She’s got a point, Bellamy thinks, as Clarke turns in a rush to see if she can salvage the soup - a very good point, in fact, but all three of them seem to be laughing too much to care.

…….

They get lucky. For the first time in all the years they have known each other, Bellamy and Clarke find that their good luck is actually holding. Clarke falls pregnant inside the year, and they are both absolutely overjoyed.

The only person who is even more excited than the proud parents? The proud big sister, Madi.

But of course, having a baby comes with a whole wealth of new decisions to be made. That’s tough, at times, because Bellamy was rather starting to hope that he and Clarke were done with making decisions, more or less. But it turns out that these are mostly decisions where all the options are good, and where hostile strangers are not waiting for them to fail. They are not miserable only choices, and that makes a welcome change.

The hardest decision of all? A name.

“I don’t even know where to start.” Clarke laments now. “Do we want to pay tribute to someone we lost? Or do we want a totally new name for a fresh start?”

“I don’t know.” Bellamy murmurs, stroking her hair. “But I think I know who to ask.”

“What do you mean?”

“We should ask Madi. She gives great advice about the things that really matter.”

…….

Madi does give them great advice, as it happens. She laughs a little, when they ask her what name she would pick for her younger sibling, and then comes out with a most unexpected answer.

“I really want it to be a boy just so we can play the  _ Augustus had a sister _ game on repeat.” She jokes.

Bellamy is confused - and a little hurt, honestly. This is not a joking matter. This is a child’s  _ name _ .

“What do you mean?” He asks her bluntly.

“I mean it doesn’t  _ matter _ . Thanks for asking me. And I understand you want to choose a name that has meaning for you and for  _ us _ . But you’re both freaking out over this kid way more than you need to. You raised a hundred kids together before you were really adults yourselves. And then there’s me and Octavia too. You two are  _ awesome _ . You can stop worrying about whether you’re capable of raising a child.”

Bellamy gulps, just a little. Madi might be ever so slightly right. He and Clarke might perhaps be overthinking this, could maybe have got themselves just the tiniest bit worked up.

Clarke, meanwhile, is speaking slowly, thoughtfully. “Thanks, Madi. I guess maybe we needed to hear that. But if you do come up with any ideas you like, let us know.”

“Of course I will.” Madi says, as if it is obvious. To be fair, Bellamy has never known an adolescent be quite so open and communicative with her parents. If she has an idea, she will most definitely tell them.

They stop overthinking it then, just for a few moments. They choose to spend a couple of seconds in a family hug instead.

…….

The baby is a girl. The moment she arrives it seems irrelevant what name she is given. Clarke is clearly set on never calling her anything but  _ baby girl _ all the length of her life, and Bellamy adopts  _ little button _ as his pet name of choice.

Madi thinks they’re both being ridiculous, and tells them so.

The name they choose is Phoebe, in the end. A daughter of Earth and Hell. Bellamy thinks that’s strangely fitting, after the Hell on Earth he and Clarke have lived through - the Hell on Earth that brought them together. But it’s a pretty name, not a sad one. A bright, fresh name for a child who will grow up knowing nothing but peace.

That’s the plan, anyway. Bellamy knows he can’t promise that for his little one, any more than he has always managed to protect Madi perfectly. Disasters come and go, whether he likes it or not.

But there have been few of them, since the fall of the Primes. Life has been quiet, more or less.

Bellamy doesn’t sleep much, the first night that he and Clarke and Phoebe and Madi are all at home. How is he supposed to sleep, tonight? How should he find rest when his perfect little daughter is here to watch over, and his perfect elder daughter is making such a fuss over mother and baby and pretending not to?

He gives up on pretending to sleep, in the early hours of the morning. He admits defeat and simply sits up on his pillow, watching Clarke feed Phoebe sleepily. He tries to contribute occasionally, patting Clarke gently on the shoulder or offering to rock the baby back to sleep. But mostly, to be honest, he just sits there, glowing with joy, and takes in the view.

It’s almost dawn when Madi gives up on pretending to sleep in her turn. When she knocks on their bedroom door, with shadowed eyes and creased pyjamas, and asks if she can come in and say hi to her sister. Clarke and Phoebe are finally sleeping at the time.

“You should let your mum rest.” Bellamy whispers firmly.

“Come on, just let me in to say hi.”

“Madi -”

“Please just let me in. You know you owe me one.”

“You owe her what?” Clarke mumbles sleepily, sitting up in bed.

“He owes me for all this.” Madi insists, waving in such a way as to take in the bed and the baby and the whole entire scene.

“Madi -”

“How does that work?” Clarke asks, eyes flickering between the two of them as if she doesn’t understand what she has missed.

“He asked me for advice on how to get you to date him.” Madi says firmly.

“I didn’t phrase it quite like that.” Bellamy defends himself, still whispering instinctively.

“It’s what you meant though.” She bounces back, affectionate.

“I’m sure it is what he meant.” Clarke says, yawning widely, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Either way, Madi, come in and see Phoebe if you want to.”

Bellamy gives up. He was only trying to get Clarke some peaceful rest. He’s spent a good deal of time, over the years, trying to take care of Clarke’s health and being soundly ignored for his trouble.

Never mind. He’ll make sure she sleeps tomorrow. When all the excitement has died down a little, he’ll rock the baby to sleep and make sure Clarke’s head is resting soundly on her pillow.

But for now, it seems, this is family time. And in this moment, he knows exactly where to start. It’s time to cuddle his wife, to invite their eldest girl to sit with them on the bed, and to pass a beautiful, sleepy baby slowly from arm to arm.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
